Kill Anakin
by Musicalscars97
Summary: While in Mustafar, Anakin believes his wife and best friend betrayed him, causing the young Sith to fall deeper into the dark side… Padmé Amidala is left for dead. When she recovers, she's told Anakin tried to kill her and her baby, and only she could survive; so she sets on an epic quest to murder the Sith Lord. Could she actually do it? Kill Bill inspired story!
1. Prologue: My Baby Shot Me Down

_**KILL ANAKIN**_

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the movies: Star Wars (all episodes and anthology films) or Kill Bill Vol. 1 and 2; or Nancy Sinatra's song Bang Bang from which I took lyrics for the next few verses… I gain nothing from writing this, only the fun of letting my imagination run wild.

Rated T for now; please be advised this has strong language and much violence (in the prologue particularly towards a pregnant woman, which I'd never condone but it's necessary for the story) it probably will go up given the source material…

* * *

 _ **Prologue: My Baby Shot Me Down…**_

 _He was nine and I fourteen, the day I met the boy from Tatooine_

 _He wore black and I wore white_

 _He would always win the fight—_

 _Bang! Bang! He shot me down_

 _Bang! Bang! I hit the ground_

 _Bang! Bang! That awful sound_

 _Bang! Bang! My baby shot me down…_

 _/_

 _A decade passed, and he came back_

 _When we grew up, I called him mine_

 _He would always laugh and say:_

" _Remember when we used to play?"_

 _Bang! Bang! I shot you down_

 _Bang! Bang! You hit the ground!_

 _Bang! Bang! That awful sound_

 _Bang! Bang! I used to shoot you down…"_

 _/_

 _Face to face, just me and him_

 _Just for us, wedding bells rang_

 _/_

 _Now he's gone, I don't know why_

 _And to this day sometimes I cry…_

 _He didn't even say goodbye_

 _But he took the time, to lie—_

 _Bang! Bang! He shot me down!_

 _Bang! Bang! I hit the ground_

 _Bang! Bang! That awful sound_

 _Bang! Bang! My baby shot me down…_

* * *

 **MUSTAFAR**

The environment was unbearable.

The heat was taking the air from his lungs, the smoke clouded his mind and judgment as much as the Dark Side did, yet he wrongly and strongly believed he was finally seeing with clarity.

It was too much.

The pain was ripping on his broken heart.

After all he had done to save her...

He had sacrificed his humanity and countless lives. His loyalty to the Republic and the Jedi Order. He had let go of every trace of Light within him. He had giving himself to the Dark Side of the Force. There hadn't been a single thing he wouldn't have done to save her.

Not a single thing.

He would've died if that's what it would have taken for her and their child to live.

His child!

Anakin suddenly thinks… _Is it really mine?_

He looks upon her sweetly gorgeous face, her tears flooding and her breath struggling… and they do nothing to him. Only enrage him. Because he knows she's faking it and it's all a set up. She wants to use his love against him.

She wants him dead.

Anakin looks upon the Jedi behind her—probably one of the last, if not the last one alive—and he can't even believe how much anger he's feeling. He didn't know such rage and hatred were even possible. Surely Padmé must've noticed by now. The dark emotions were practically emanating from the Sith's young body.

He hates him. He hates her. And he hates himself.

How could they?

Obi-Wan was like a brother to him, Padmé was the love of his life.

He had saved both during the Clone Wars on countless occasions.

And they had been laughing in his face without him ever realizing it.

Well, they wouldn't laugh for much longer, that was for sure.

"Come back, please!" Padmé was begging desperately, Anakin could almost imagine all the ways he could stop her from speaking, each more violent than the last. "I love you!" she cried and that's when he couldn't take it anymore. He had to stop her lying mouth. He wanted to silence her forever. He wanted to kill her.

The Dark Side clouds everything…

 _She's lying!_ The painful thought screamed in the back of his mind. _She doesn't love me!_ How could he ever live without her? How could he ever even exist knowing she had betrayed him? Knowing the child he had been so hopefully expecting wasn't even his?

He kept his steady gaze, looking past her as she spit her lies. Looking directly at Obi-Wan, who stood watching the husband and wife as their relationship died.

Anakin knew he could never trust a Jedi. Not after what he did.

So, of course Obi-Wan was there with only one purpose: To kill Anakin—Darth Vader.

He knows… He's sure! Obi-Wan wouldn't ever let a Sith alive.

And he had been brought by Padmé of all people to kill him?

The Sith thought he wasn't going to be able of handling that "fact", he'd break down, cry, and kill them.

But, no. Not right now.

He wanted to really savor the moment. He wanted to hurt them and destroy them with an exact amount of pain as they had done to him.

Padmé's loving eyes begged for him. _Loving?_ Vader almost choked on the thought.

He walked to her, slowly and steadily, he put his metal hand on her back, while his human one touched her big belly. He wanted to feel the child that was never going to be born one last time.

"My love," Vader said with false calmness. "I will go with you and Obi-Wan, of course."

At the mention of the Jedi's name she turned pale. She shook her head as if she didn't know what he was talking about; Anakin roughly made her turn around and see Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé cried with perfectly acted shock and fear. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Padmé," he said, apparently apologetic. "I sneaked into your ship. I needed to find Anakin." Anakin couldn't help but to notice how the Jedi didn't refer to her as Senator Amidala, something he had never done before.

 _Come on, Master!_ He thought with bitter irony. _She's playing her part perfectly! Do it, too. Oh don't slip! You almost convinced me, you bastard!_

"Anakin, what have you done?" Kenobi cried with apparent worry and pain. "How could you? I know all that you've done—"

The Sith kept his glance and voice steady. "What do you want from me?" _Apart from my head to roll? Oh, that's right. My wife, you fucking scum!_

"Obi-Wan, let me alone with him," Padmé begged, her tears still falling down her cheeks.

She stood in front of her husband, almost defensibly, as if she wouldn't allow the Jedi to touch him. She put her soft hands on Anakin's hot and heavy shoulders; her touch doing incredible things to the former Jedi. Making the emotion that was blossoming in him gain a little bit of… could it be Light?

 _Fuck my life!_ The Sith thought bitterly. _I still love her?_ No. That's impossible. He hated her! He was going to brutally murder her! He couldn't let her charms get the best of him. She was a false angel. The devil in disguise. He can't let himself be fooled! Not—again!

But if he was soon to kill her… couldn't he enjoy her a few more moments? Her touch, her scent, her voice, even while crying… everything about her attracted him. There was nothing in her not inviting… Oh why can't she love him?

"Padmé," Anakin heard from Obi-Wan's lips, which only inflamed his anger like the burning lava around them. "Get away from him." His order made Anakin reach for his lightsaber—but he didn't start a fight. It was not yet the time…

"Why, Obi-Wan?" she asked, 'pretending' to be angry at him.

"He's not who you think he is," Obi-Wan said, unable to hide his fear and urgency. "He's dangerous. He's thinking about killing you—"

"Stop!" Padmé interrupted, looking hurt. "Don't say such things! Leave him alone, Obi-Wan! Go! Oh, please let me talk to him, I know I can…"

Before any more words could escape her lips, Padmé was dragged across the hot air, the Force obviously being used against her. To her surprise, Anakin hadn't yet done anything. It was Obi-Wan. He had used the Force to keep her away from the mad and dangerous Sith Lord.

She wasn't harmed at all, and she was now standing behind the Jedi master, who swiftly ignited his Jedi weapon.

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé cried, and she sounded terrified. "Don't hurt him!"

"My love," Anakin said slowly, calmly and with too much irony. "I will not be the one to die tonight."

Finally, the troubled Sith ignited his lightsaber.

 **NABOO**

She was burning with fever, she felt still on that hot lava planet.

She thought she was going to die.

As the pain ran its course around every part of her bruised body, she deliriously screamed her lover's name. And he wouldn't come to her.

"ANAKIN!"

"ANAKIN!"

"ANAKIN!"

She was choking in tears, pain and loneliness.

She moaned, grunted and shouted desperately, not calling her husband anymore, but anyone that might come and save her.

Her sobbing then mixed with the sound of some loud, strange breathing.

Amidst her fever she managed to open her eyes, yet they didn't show her much, as she was in utter blackness. She tried to raise herself but failed, she then put her hands on her belly, trying to get some comfort, trying to find out if she was truly alone or not… and oh! She wasn't! Her baby was inside her! Oh and she felt he or she would come at any time now.

"Luke… Leia…" she muttered over and over again. Will she have a boy or a girl? Would she have any child at all?

Padmé couldn't stop her loud sobbing, and it only increased when she felt a metal grip on her feet, dragging her carelessly across the cold floors.

"Please," she managed to say, very low and trembling. "I—I am pregnant. Oh have some mercy! If not for me for my baby!"

"Your children," a hard, cold and dark voice said. "Aren't my concern. They will die with you today."

The sentence, which was no doubt a statement, made her scream in fear.

"Don't, oh please don't!" she begged. "Kill me if you want but let my child be born!"

Throughout her pleads, an old acid laughter was heard. "Are you sure, my apprentice?" the old voice said. "We could really use the children of senator Amidala and Master Kenobi…"

"No!" The younger voice shouted. "They will not live! None of them will!"

Padmé's cries were now a mix of fear, pain and confusion.

"My dear Vader, I will let you have your kill," the older voice sighed. "I think you've tortured her enough. I rather think you should do it now."

Alarms went off in the young senator.

A light finally appeared in the room, allowing her to somewhat see the Shadows that were with her.

The light wasn't so much a light as it was a glow, and it was strong, vibrant and red.

She knew as soon as she heard the sound of a lightsaber being ignited that she was with a Force user. But the red and darkness made her aware that that was no Jedi with her. The Shadows were two Sith Lords.

And the weapon came from the younger one. She sensed and saw the strong weapon an inch from her face, and behind the red glow, she saw the face of the man—of the monster that had tortured her, and who was going to kill her and her baby.

The desperate sound that escaped her lips as she saw him would've melted any human, if only there was one there with her.

"Now," the former Anakin Skywalker said; his face and lightsaber a few inches away from his wife's neck. "You will die," he spoke slowly and menacingly.

His name died in her lips as she choked in sobs.

Padmé closed her eyes, too shocked to even ask for an explanation, and she awaited her death by lightsaber.

The weapon never flinch in the Sith's hand, but it also never touched her.

"Well, Vader?" Darth Sidious then said. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts? Will you actually show mercy to the traitor?"

Vader started to laugh, demonically and for long. "Master," he said. "I am just not ready. I want her to suffer for a long time still. Until she begs me to kill her and her children."

The Emperor cackled nastily. "Oh, of course. Forgive me! You take your time."

"Master," Darth Vader said. "I hope you don't mind, but I would like some privacy."

"You want me to leave? I wouldn't mind, my boy. I've seen a lot today, and I'm more than content with you, my apprentice."

"Oh, you don't have to leave," Vader said. "She has one last sight to see before her death."

Padmé felt as her body was roughly lifted, which prompted a long painful groan to escape her.

He took no care and walked—ran swiftly, ignoring her weak protests as she begged for a second to rest.

Each hall they walked was completely foreign to Padmé, it was too dark to see anything, and her eyes were struggling to remain open as blood ran down her forehead. She let out a loud cry as she realized she was bleeding from places she didn't even recognize; all of her ached, mainly her belly, head and legs.

Then, she felt the cool Naboo air on her lungs, and on her bloody and purple-bruised skin, the sun.

It burned her eyes after so many days in the darkness.

Several more cries of pain escaped her.

He seemed to not hear.

But of course he was, and those desperate sounds were not only giving him pleasure, but they were fueling him for more: more pain! More violence! Till at last death—but not yet!

"Do you know where we are?" Vader asked, coarsely. "Are you even conscious? Can you speak at all?"

Just the sound of more tears.

"I'm sensing you can understand me, my love," he went on. "And though you're not in the best conditions to have a conversation, we're going to have a last one where it all started. Can you guess yet, Padmé?"

She fainted for some moments. He slapped her back into consciousness.

"Stop screaming," he said, nonchalantly. "The worse, I can assure you, my angel, it's behind you. But don't worry; you won't ever have to relive it. You will not be haunted by such memories; you are soon to be dead. I'd start getting used to the idea, by the way—but to the point!" he had her body in his strong arms, tightly pressed in front of him. He had her standing up, looking directly at the bloodshot red sky, which reminded both of Mustafar, bringing awful memories to both.

"Can you tell if it is the sunset or sunrise, Padmé?" She almost fainted again but he wouldn't allow that. He forced her to look at the landscape in front of them. "This place is gorgeous, my angel. Almost as beautiful as you are… but then again, nothing can ever compete with you when it comes to beauty… well, perhaps now some people would disagree," he laughed, strangely. "Even though you're not a very vain woman, Padmé, I don't think you would enjoy looking at yourself right now… but I do, I always had. I always will. I love looking at you. As much as I once loved you. Now, you must be wondering a lot of things, but since we don't have much time and I'm thinking if I hit you again that wouldn't keep you up but might kill you beforetime, I'll be very brief." He started pacing, then he threw her over a hard piece of wood. She screamed loudly, all her bruises burning at once. "Stop complaining, My Lady," he seemed to be joking. "You always enjoyed this ride."

An odd sound reached her ears; she felt she was floating; she then knew they were on water.

"Lake Country will always be the fondest place in Anakin Skywalker's mind," she heard the words mixed with the sound of calm waves. "Oh I should tell you, he died before you. And _you_ killed him, not with kindness but love. You gave him false love only to then take it from him. He couldn't stand it, and he died of a broken heart. Let us take a minute of silence in the Jedi's memory, shall we, angel?"

The minute of silence passed.

"Has your memory awaken, my dear love?" The young Sith said.

She looked around, it looked blurry behind the blood and tears, but she could very well tell where they were. Her voice couldn't actually say the word, but he read the answer in her thoughts, being the first time he bothered entering her mind in days.

"Yes, Senator," he nodded. "You're absolutely correct. Force, you have always been so smart! So incredibly smart all your life! It only makes sense for you to be that in your death, too. Yes, my fallen angel. We're in Varykino."

He grabbed her again, making her step a little outside of the boat, getting clear blue water on her bloody feet, hands and face.

He was about to lay her down on the wooden floor again, but instead he decided to lay her on his chest, something she didn't notice as both were similarly hard.

"Are you remembering?" he asked, and since of course she couldn't answer, he ventured into her mind again. "No?" he almost sounded hurt. "I understand it's hard for you to focus in anything other than pain right now, but so many lovely memories we had here… I can't help but to go through all of them… first kisses, embraces, words of love… and _our_ _wedding_." He was quiet for a long time. Then, "I think it's enough."

He stood up.

"Darling," he sounded so calm and collected. "I know you fear my lightsaber, but that's not the death I've planned for you. Oh, don't relax and don't fret either."

She curled on the floor.

"Senator Amidala," Young Vader went on. "You've survived many attempts on your life. I've even been witness of some of them. I know you love a blaster."

She screamed savagely when she saw her own weapon in his metal hand.

"So, I think this death will fit you," he pointed the blaster at her head, then her belly, then her chest and he couldn't seem to decide where he would hit first. "Do you think me sadistic, love?" he asked, more gravely, all calmness departing him. "Do you think I am an evil Sith Lord? You and I spoke about the Force and the Sith many times. We had the same opinions then. We both know a Sith thrives in pain and hatred. But does he do it in his own pain? On his hatred for himself? I'm about to find out. I'm thinking that, if that's true, I'm about to become the most powerful being that ever lived," he watched her deeply, and both hateful glances clashed. "Any last words, my angel?"

"Anakin, the baby," was her murmur and last breath as she so weakly and fearfully shook her head. "You're the father…!"

He managed to read into her thoughts one last time as he finally fired at her, silencing and forcing her into a state of unconsciousness from which she was sure to never return from. And he knew.

Her last words were nothing but the truth.

* * *

 **AN:** I debated a lot whether Vader should be in the suit or not, if you could let me know whether you think I made the right call or not, I'd appreciate it!


	2. Back From The Death

**Chapter 1: Back From The Death**

Night was quiet in Theed's Palace.

The royal guards stood each in their usual position, ready and awaiting a menace they knew would simply never come.

But the lack of action did nothing to their focus and determination; and you'd really have to pity the fool who could think irrationally enough to dare break into the Palace.

As it was just happening.

The intruder hid behind the shadows, just outside the entrance, watching carefully and planning in what way he would proceed.

When he was convinced the time had come, he walked steadily towards the gates. His walk being calm, confident, and in many ways, elegant.

He was in front of the guards for a mere two seconds before they prepared their attacks, which were all too slow for the intruder, as he had already ignited his lightsaber, and with as much elegance as his walk contained, he slashed them into pieces.

He gave a small sigh and then he entered the Palace.

Every hall he passed by had a number of guards, and they all met the end of his powerful blade; he continued his steady pace, seemingly unaffected by the corpses he left behind, seemingly unmoved by the blood he had shed. He was on a mission. He had felt her presence the minute he landed on Naboo, and following her trace, he found himself outside of her door.

His face gained a quality of annoyance as he realized her door was as guarded as the Palace's gates, the only difference, and he was thankful for that, was that these bodyguards were more human, they were soldiers, stormtroopers; they pointed their blasters and swiftly fired at him, but his lightsaber deflected every shot with ease, and it was them who then lay on the floor, now lifeless under their white armors.

He took a deep breath before entering, preparing himself for what sight he was about to meet. His expectations were justly low… imagining the poor woman that had been left abandoned under the care of two ruthless Sith Lords.

At last, he entered; he first looked around the room, looking for any danger that might be awaiting him. There seemed to be none. He quickly walked and stood by the wide window; the curtains were closed. He opened them a little to see how much time he had left. It was clear morning was still a long way from Theed. He watched the beautiful white moons for a second, allowing himself that small pleasure before really looking at her. At last, he had to do it.

And the sight of Padmé immediately took his breath away—and not in the way he had expected.

Her skin looked whiter than he had ever seen her—which not only was natural but it made sense after being concealed without ever being graced by the sun for so long. Her brown curls were as shiny and soft as ever, now they were very long, reaching and almost passing her belly as they fell down her sides. There appeared to be no bruises left, no stains of blood, no scratches… if he didn't know better, he'd think she was unscathed.

Of course, he couldn't hope for so much. This woman was practically dead, and he had come to bring her back.

He sat on the bed next to her; he took her cold small hand in his own, and then brought it to his lips. "What have they done with you?" Obi-Wan muttered, sadly, guiltily, ashamed… "Don't worry, Padmé. They will not find you awaken. They will never hurt you again. I'm sorry I took so long, but I will awake you from this nightmare!"

In the deep regions of her mind, Padmé could hear him, and in even in her state, she thought his words would make her brain explode. The confusion… the pain… the bewilderment…oh it was too much! What was he apologizing for? What had happened to her? And for how long had they…

The word formed itself without her being able of stopping it. The name rang in her troubled and injured head like a hammer. Surely someone was slamming something metal on her skull. Why else would it hurt so much? She felt as if she were falling from some endless spiral… only to land in a strange maze, where someone chased her… and then she fell again… then she drowned, then the killer found her… and then she…

"Ahh!" the cry was loud and filled with fear, the voice raspy, and ill; dripping dread and anger. "Anakin!" she cried, with difficulty getting herself into a sitting position, looking almost sheepishly at every direction, hatred pouring out of her skin and tears escaping her eyes, finally opened after so long.

She started palpating herself, every part of her body, as if she needed reassurance that she was still in one piece. There seemed to be no missing limb, not even that much pain, she looked under her thin white robe and found nothing too odd there. She seemed fine. Except for one thing. Her huge belly was gone. She passed her hands over her stomach, endlessly, as if looking for her missing baby, sounding desperate and mad, clearly reliving a past nightmare—if only it were a nightmare! She hadn't even the comfort of thinking that that could only happen in her troubled mind. The memory existed, because it was real, because it had happened.

"Are you alright?" she heard and that caused her to shrink in fear. From a far off corner, he stood, watching her, now perfectly calm and with a… could that be a smile on his face? But of course the more important question here would be: He's alive? Obi-Wan is alive?

"Yes," he answered, clearly invading her thoughts. "As much as you are, my dear."

She sank into her pillows, exhausted. "We escaped," she said, almost relieved. "We escaped!"

"Not yet," he sighed.

"Is he around?" Padmé asked, terrified.

He sat by her side again. "No. He's somewhere in the Outer Rim. I don't know exactly where, but it will take him some time before reaching us here. We have enough time to escape that so unappealing meeting."

She took some time to consider his words—they didn't make much sense to her.

"Where are we?" was the first question she could form.

"Theed's Palace," he answered.

"What are we doing here?" she pressed, annoyed by his short and vague answer.

"I've come for you, Padmé. I knew it was either now or never."

"What does that even mean?" she cried, scratching her head.

"It is a rare occasion in which the Emperor isn't in Naboo, and in which Darth Vader is too far to stop me from saving you."

She couldn't say anything; her silence indicated him he should go on.

"This Palace has been almost turned into a medical center," Obi-Wan went on. "You've been treated here since the Birth of the Empire."

"How—how long?"

He sighed. "Four years."

She almost fell back into the coma. "What?!" she cried, sobs attacking her, every imaginable pain returning to her; her state being unbearable, shaken, unsettled. "I've been…" she muttered. "The galaxy…? You?"

"Padmé," he said, struggling. "I do not want to give you too much information; certainly not too many details. They would only hurt you. Just know, after… after he turned to the Dark Side, he thought you and I betrayed him. He tried to kill me, I managed to escape; I—I watched him take you away. And I knew, I was sentencing you to your death. I will not ask you how he put you in a coma," at this her white skin looked like Hoth snow. "I knew for some reason he had kept you alive… and I was waiting. Waiting for the right moment to take you from him. That moment is now."

* * *

The battle had lasted for longer than Darth Vader had ever expected. He roared with maximum anger as he slashed the wall—which should've been a Jedi— into pieces.

The darkness of the station allowed him the freedom and ability of mixing like another shadow of the night. Only the burning red of his lightsaber allowing his opponent to know his death was in front of him. Death itself walking and manifesting before the Jedi. Several loud cries erupted, causing a disgusting song of death and violence, as a fallen limb landed on the black floor.

Vader called the Jedi's lightsaber from the mutilated hand on the floor, to his own metal one. He stood before the traitor of the Empire and robbed him now also, of his ability to breath. The Jedi brought his one hand to his throat, as the invisible grip threatened to kill him.

He saw the Sith's yellow eyes, buried deep into his own blue ones, and before he could have any last words, the Jedi's bright presence became one with the Force, as his human eyes closed, and his neck finally snapped.

Darth Vader saw the corpse for a moment, very much content with himself, a cruel smile gracing his young features, when he felt it. A tremor in the Force. One that couldn't be mistaken for anything else… apart from what it was. He was so sure. The last time he felt it was in the presence of his old master.

Vader's strength almost faltered for a second. He shook his head, being now the one struggling to breath. _It can't be…_ The dark lord told himself. _It can't be! Surely he must be dead by now…_ But he saw him, with _her_. He saw them both in his aching head, as clearly as if he was there in the room witnessing the scene…

 _Kenobi sat on the bed by her side, taking a hand that was not his own within his grasp, he watched her lovingly for a long time before bringing her skin to his lips. Really taking in her taste; even in her state, her charms delighting him like they would to any other man._

" _What have they done with you?" Obi-Wan muttered, sadly, guiltily, ashamed… "Don't worry, Padmé. They will not find you awaken. They will never hurt you again. I'm sorry I took so long, but I will awake you from this nightmare!"_

The Sith Lord could hardly believe what his mind was showing him. _It just can't be!_ It is a nightmare! It could never—

 _Padmé cried her husband's name at once, the years of being "dead" showing no repercussions on her sweet melodic voice. "Anakin!" the name almost died in her lips. True anger, fear and hate pouring from her mouth as she pronounced that name. It was clear she hated him even more than she feared him, which really says a lot._

"She has awaken…" the Sith Lord muttered, shaking his head as if he were pronouncing some lie. "She's awaken!"

* * *

Obi-Wan's hand pressed against Padmé's as they swiftly ran below the dark night sky. She never looked behind; she never thought about anything—not even _him_. All her energy was focusing on leaving her home planet. The planet she knew was no longer her safe space—it was the place he would go to find her, where he would only find an empty bedroom; and someone, if not everyone, would have to pay for her freedom.

A spaceship—she thought that's what it was, stood before them. Padmé saw a familiar face with an unfamiliar frightened quality saluting her—she knew that face to be Bail Organa's. When she finally saw the gates close behind her, she dropped her body on the floor, having trouble breathing, crying, cursing, hating, while at the same time, oddly smiling. She looked at the two men behind her, and as she set her brown eyes on them, she muttered, much less weakly than she had anticipated, "Thank you…" she was absolutely breathless but determinate on speaking. "Just… thank you!"

* * *

 **AN:** Well, I hope that was enjoyable!

Thanks so much to those who favorited and followed the Prologue.

And for those who reviewed: Yes, Obi-Wan is alive and Vader didn't burn…

And I'm aware of how OOC the characters might seem now, it just has been necessary to accommodate the story.

This chapter probably raised more questions than it answered, I hope the story becomes clearer in the next chapter :)


	3. The Bride

**Chapter 2: The Bride**

 **DAGOBAH**

The misty fog around her almost blinded her sight, even more than her bitter tears did. She was on the ground, curling like a crying child, screaming and groaning loudly, desperately, in so much pain and _so_ enraged.

Her emotion was unlike any other in the galaxy, at the moment, wilder and stronger, yet she was so well-concealed in that planet, her husband couldn't sense any of it.

"You're lying!" she cried, trying with all her might to stay in denial. "It can't be true!"

Obi-Wan walked slowly towards her, rubbing his eyes as if to blink away tears. "Forgive me, Padmé," he said, quietly and sadly. "But I would never lie to you, especially about something like this."

She screamed and pulled at her own hair. "But if I made it—why didn't… oh my baby!" she covered her face with her hands, and wept some more.

Bail and Yoda tried to move closer to her, but Obi-Wan indicated them with a decisive finger to leave her alone; he walked to the politician and Jedi Master, and in a very low whisper, he said: "She needs to let it all out. It's the only way she can start healing. We should leave her alone for some moments. It is a hard truth she just learned…or just— _remembered_."

The three moved toward the direction of the Jedi's hut, but they didn't give even five steps before they heard Padmé's voice. It sounded odd.

"Tell me," out of breath, she managed to say, "I need to know!"

Bail Organa and the two Jedi returned and stood a few inches from her.

"Was—"her voice almost broke, but little by little, it gained strength and volume. "Was it a boy or a girl?" she couldn't help a small sob.

"We don't know," Bail said, being the first time he dared speak to her since they rescued her.

She looked down. "I think it was a boy. In fact—I'm sure."

More crying escaped from her, but this time, it was very quiet. Tears just fell down that white face, silently.

"Padmé," Bail said, "You need to rest. Come back into the ship."

She ignored her old friend.

"Why did you save me?" she asked, voice trembling, staring accusingly at Obi-Wan. "Why didn't you let him kill me, too?!" she was almost screaming now. She rose from the ground and stood before the younger Jedi. "Why, Obi-Wan?!"

Kenobi rubbed his forehead, tiredly, without facing her, he said: "Padmé, it wasn't me."

The red on her face was not just for all the screaming and crying she had done, it was mainly for her anger.

"Will you stop talking so vaguely now!" she cried, incensed. "I can't deal with half-truths right now! If not you, who saved me from— _him_?" making a scornful emphasis on _him_.

"Padmé, I—I don't know what happened after you and Vader left Mustafar. After my duel with him, I was left stranded and later rescued by master Yoda. I really don't know much more than you about the last five years of your life."

She pulled at her hair again, and then she said: "Alright. Can you at least tell me how did you survive? How did the battle go in a way in which neither died?"

Kenobi sighed, then he stared ahead, beyond her, clearly looking at the past.

"It was not an easy fight, my dear. I can tell you that," Kenobi begun. "It wasn't simple, it wasn't short. Forgive me, I do not enjoy recalling such experience—"

"Just tell me," Padmé pressed. "How?"

"He almost—no, no, he bested me," Kenobi went on. "He was younger and more powerful than me, and what's worst, he was aware of it. But he wasn't perfect, Padmé. He had one great flaw I used to my advantage."

"Which is?" Padmé asked.

"His arrogance," Kenobi spitted out. "He had too much confidence in himself and in the Dark Side… You must remember that nightmare of a planet, Padmé. Vader and I fought amidst the raining lava and smothered environment, many times he was on the brink of killing me, but—he didn't. Make no mistake; it wasn't mercy what he was showing, it was something else. I could tell, I sensed it, I knew! He wanted to take me alive. He wanted to torture me before my death."

Padmé's face was now dry from tears as she listened to Kenobi.

"We stood each over the burning lava, barely protected, and then… I had the high ground. I could see it in his eyes, I knew he wanted to jump and end me… but he didn't. He moved back into the land, knowing I would go after him—which is what I should've done," he sighed, guiltily. "I only approached him as much as I could to see what he was about to do. He thought that I would follow to save you… he was sure that if I did, he would defeat me. He was right. I couldn't risk it. I—forgive me; I saw as he took you away and I turned my back. I hid for some time till I could contact master Yoda."

Padmé started pacing in circles around the men and alien before her. She rubbed her face in frustration and rage, as the memory attacked her—

 _Padmé stood, crying, next to her two droids, feeling like time had gone still. It really felt like a century since she saw Anakin and Obi-Wan begin their fight. At that point, she couldn't see them anymore. Her heart was beating rapidly with extreme fear. "Please don't kill him," was her constant prayer. She couldn't stand the fact that maybe the Jedi master was killing the love of her life. "Please be alive!" her heart cried as she thought of Anakin._

 _At last, some ease reached the young woman, as she saw a man approach. He was floating above the lava, he had an expression she couldn't decipher, and she didn't care about anything at all. Because it was him. He was alive still!_

 _Oh, and he was coming her way! He was running, in fact. He was running to her; she saw as he put his lightsaber away, throwing in on the floor as if his most precious belonging hindered him; a mad quality now shining in two odd yellow eyes. He roughly put his arms around her and picked her up. He pressed her tightly and the two swiftly entered her ship._

" _Anakin, stop!" she cried, pain almost making her scream. "You might hurt the baby!"_

 _He groaned like a beast, he let her go, and then he stared outside the ship. "Won't you come for them?!" he shouted, his fiery glance piercing at Obi-Wan._

 _Padmé was more confused than ever, and the feeling only grew when she felt a sudden difficulty to breathe… she brought her hands to her throat, almost instantly knowing who was attacking her. Her feet no longer touched the ground, she stared outside and looked at the Jedi's silhouette; he was now very far away._

" _You will leave them?" Anakin shouted even as he groaned._

 _The shock in Anakin's face only increased as he saw, how from that great distance, Kenobi called the lightsaber Anakin had thrown away, into his own hand, and then disappeared behind the smoky grey clouds._

" _Ah—Anakin!" Padmé gasped as he still had her throat within his grasp._

 _He released her, but only for some short seconds, as then, a new grip formed around her neck. His metal hand._

"How could he?!" Padmé hissed amidst clenched teeth. "How could he!"

"He had fallen so deep into the Dark Side," Kenobi muttered, shaking his head. "You must try to understand, that no longer was Anakin."

"What?" she snapped.

"It was Vader," Obi-Wan said. "Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith."

Now Padmé shook her head. "Don't give me that bullshit!" she cried, surprising everyone around her as she had always had such a proper way of speaking. "It was _Anakin_!" Oh with how much hate and anger does she pronounce that name once so adoring to her!

"No, Padmé," Obi-Wan spoke slowly. "They are not the same person—"

"Bullshit!" Padmé repeated, looking like she was ready to slap Kenobi. "That Vader you speak of wouldn't have done what he did!"

"What did he do?"

Padmé released air, anger fuming from her. "He planned my death so carefully."

The three watched her silently.

"And so will I _his_!" she pronounced.

Master Yoda shook his green head and finally decided to intervene. "Your anger and your pain controls you now," he said, with less calmness than usual. "Your mind, clouded it is. And your words mean them you do not."

"But I do!" she cried. "Kriffing Sith Lord! He showed no mercy, and neither will I!"

"Padmé," Obi-Wan ventured a word again, his voice filled with fear of her answer. "Where did he take you after Mustafar?"

Padmé's face almost looked purple, her rage truly possessed her. "Varykino." Was her short answer.

"Isn't that…" Bail dared speak again. "In Naboo?"

Padmé took a deep breath. "It sure is," against her will, a few tears fell again.

"Why would he take you there?" the man from Alderaan asked.

"Because that's—that's where we got married," she confessed and looked down.

She heard a series of gasps; she thought they mainly came from Obi-Wan and Bail. When she lifted her glance, she saw Yoda's green face, as he stared at her with disapproval.

"Yes," she said. "We were married. We _are_ married," she said the words as if they burned her tongue.

"I guess that shouldn't be as surprising as it is…." Obi-Wan muttered, somewhat sarcastically.

"Padmé, what were you thinking?" Bail couldn't help saying. He sounded like a disappointed father.

"I wasn't!" she cried. "I was stupid and in love. I thought he loved me! I thought he wouldn't ever hurt me! How was I supposed to know he would torture me and kill my baby?!" she snapped again, and this time, she crumbled on the ground, hating life more than ever.

Again, the sound gasps covered her ears.

"Why did he have to choose Varykino of all places?" she muttered on the floor, recalling every second of joy and pain that beautiful island brought to her. "The first time I was there with him… if someone would've told me how our last meeting there would go… oh I would've thought him crazy… I…" she sobbed.

She covered her sad face with her hands, till another warm palm caressed her hair. She lowered her hands, and saw Obi-Wan was on his knees, next to her. "You must forget about all that," he whispered softly.

"I can't," she said. "I shouldn't. I must have every memory very present… when I face him again!"

"Padmé, stop talking crazy. You would go after him?"

"He's probably after me already. He will find me anyway—"

"No, my dear. We're secured here."

She looked confused.

"One of the purest planets in the galaxy, this is." Yoda intervened. "Darth Vader and the Emperor will not think to look for us here."

"The Emperor?" Padmé's face looked sickened. _Oh, I almost forgot…!_

* * *

 **NABOO**

"So, it is true," Emperor Palpatine hissed in his old voice.

"Yes, Master," Darth Vader said, pacing around him as they wandered around what was once Padmé's room in Theed's Palace.

"She woke up from the coma," Palpatine smiled behind his dark hood. "I told you it would happen, Lord Vader." He cackled. "If you ever need a reason to not doubt the Dark Side of the Force, now you have one."

The younger Sith stopped his pacing, he regarded the empty bed with an expressionless face, and said: "Kenobi has taken her."

The Emperor cackled again, this time so loudly and nastily, even his apprentice felt the desire of covering his ears with his hands. "I will go after them immediately," Vader said.

The Emperor's creepy smiled was erased, giving way for an absolutely frightening grin—thankfully it was almost completely concealed under his black hood. "Oh," he spoke slowly—and menacingly. "Will you, Lord Vader? So you are your own master? You take no one's orders? You dictate and command? I am at least glad you have the courtesy of informing me of your designs!"

Vader got on his knees to show fake reverence and respect. "Absolutely not, my Master. But—"

"There is a but?"

"She's my wife," Vader couldn't help his defiance.

"Yes, I know," Sidious snapped. "And so?"

Vader struggled to find an answer that wouldn't get him into trouble. "Master, she could also be a clue to the Jedi."

"Yes, and it is your job to kill him, as well as any other Jedi, my apprentice. But you will not go out of your way to find them. You will continue to follow my orders. Understand?"

There was nothing else he could say. He _had_ to obey his master…

* * *

 **DAGOBAH**

"I was never his wife," Padmé said scornfully a few days after landing in Dagobah.

She was in the Jedi's humble hut, eating a disgusting dinner she could barely put in her mouth.

"Leave the matter alone," Obi-Wan said.

"Eat and heal," Yoda advised. "If your scars you want to heal; perhaps stop mentioning him, you should…"

She cared nothing for their words. "I was never Anakin's wife!" she cried and the two Jedi sighed. "No one ever knew about us. We never kissed in public. Everyone thought we were just friends."

"I don't think that's the definition of marriage," Kenobi said after sipping his tea.

She pouted like a sulky child. "Shut up."

For some moments there was silence.

Then Padmé broke their peace. "But I was his bride…" she muttered to herself.

Images of Varykino invaded her mind—

 _A pair of blue eyes, as blue as the sea that surrounded them; a loving, kind, good-hearted man. Beautiful words of love—his vows._

"He swore—he promised," the woman muttered.

 _A room full of flowers, with an inviting sweet scent surrounding them._

 _A male face that couldn't conceal his great love, need and desire as he lay on the wide bed…_

"He wanted me—he loved me…"

 _A bloodshot red sky, a cruel man that tortured her for Force knows how many days._

 _Cool water on her bruised, aching skin._

"Anakin…" she whispered.

" _Any last words, my angel?"_

 _Bang!_

"He wanted to—"she gasped. "He killed me!" Padmé cried. "I want to—I will kill him!"

The two Jedi regarded her with great concern.

"Padmé," Obi-Wan said. "You have to—"

"No!" she cried, angrily. "I don't want anyone to tell me what I have do!"

"I am not trying to order you around—"

"But I want you to!" she interrupted again.

"Uh?" he was confused.

"I want you to train me! You and master Yoda."

The ancient master shook his green head. "Hump!"

"Please," she begged them. "Teach me how to kill him!"

Obi-Wan thought she was still in too much shock to think rationally, and even if she was, there was no way Master Yoda would ever accept. Neither should he. Padmé was speaking out of pure anger and hate. She was still drowning in her suffering, and it'd be wrong for them to even humor her.

And besides… Revenge. Was. Not. The Jedi. Way.

They'd be crazy to even listen to her request.

"Please," she begged and Kenobi looked at her, heartbroken. He felt so guilty, in many ways, responsible for all that happened to her. "I can't take all this pain!" Padmé went on. "I feel like all this resentment is gonna make me explode! He must pay for what he did to me—and my baby."

Yoda refused her again, while Kenobi was silent.

"He must pay, too, for all the Jedi he's killed. For all the suffering he has brought on the galaxy. For helping Palatine topple the Republic!" she was now almost an expert in the state of the galaxy, having talked to Bail Organa about it before he left.

"Persuasive you are," Yoda commented. "But in vain, your efforts are."

"Oh please!" she cried. "I am not trying to persuade you two. You have hearts and souls; you can't possibly feel nothing towards Anakin after what he did at the temple! You must hate him! You must want him dead!"

"Revenge is not the Jedi way," Yoda said, mirroring Kenobi's thoughts.

"I am not asking you to make me a Jedi," Padmé cried. "I am asking you to teach me how to kill a Sith Lord!" she snapped. "Which consequently, is something only a Jedi could do, as far as I know."

The two Jedi considered her words and request for some moments.

Padmé saw in Yoda, that she was not succeeding at all…

Her eyes crowded with tears; tears of anger, exasperation, despair, impotence, defeat, hate!

"It wouldn't be revenge," Kenobi said, breaking a long silence. "It would be justice…"

Padmé's face lighted for a second, she smiled at him, but Yoda erased all hope again.

"Dangerous thoughts you're having, Obi-Wan… to a path of darkness they might take you."

"We are all sunk in the darkness!" Padmé cried, throwing her arms in the air, frustrated at the Jedi's stubbornness. "How much lower could we fall? How much worse could life get?"

"Much worse…" Yoda warned.

"Maybe for you, but I—I have nothing else to lose."

"Kill you with ease he would," the ancient master insisted.

"I don't care," she was determinate. "If I die trying to kill him, I. DON'T. CARE!"

Yoda sighed, sadly.

Kenobi scratched his face and through the Force; he spoke to his former master.

" _She's not going to give up, Master Yoda."_

" _Neither will I, Obi-Wan."_

" _She will suffer more, if we don't help her."_

" _True, that is."_

" _She's suffered enough!"_

" _Make her a killing machine, I will not."_

" _It'd be an injustice to abandon her."_

" _Make her a killing machine, I will not."_

Kenobi put a hand on Yoda's shoulder, signaling with his eyes towards that broken soul, Anakin's most evil deed.

" _That woman deserves her revenge,"_ Kenobi said through the Force. _"And Anakin deserves to die."_

Yoda sighed, almost defeated. "She's too old," he finally said.

"What?" Padmé cried, looking offended.

"Uh, what he means," Kenobi spoke. "Is that it takes a long time for a Jedi to be trained. Usually they are taught from a very young age."

"I told you," she said. "I don't want you to make a Jedi. I know you couldn't, but that's not what I want. I know he's powerful, and even you two might fear him. But I have that going for me—I will never fear him again. He's already hurt me in every possible way imaginable. There's nothing else he can do to me."

"He could kill you—"

"I told you, I don't care."

"He's skilled and powerful—"

"But he's not all mighty. Even with the Force. If Jedi can be killed, so can a Sith Lord, right?"

Kenobi nodded, almost frightened.

"I remember Geonosis," Padmé went on. "It only takes one skilled blaster," she looked shockingly determinate and fascinated while speaking of such horrible things. "I know almost every Jedi was killed during Order 66. And I know, too," she looked at the Jedi directly. "That you've killed Sith Lords before. Teach me how to do that! If even with the Dark Side, Dooku and Maul couldn't beat you, then they're not immune to failure. I know I can't use the Force—but I could use a lightsaber. I can kill him, I know I can! But I need guidance! Will you give me that or will you let me to go find it somewhere else?"

The two Jedi looked at each other, they didn't say anything, yet Padmé guessed correctly they were speaking to each other through the Force.

Then they spoke.

 _Sith's Hell, it worked!_

* * *

Padmé stood in front of the blackish swamp, not even bothered so much about her nightmary temporary "home". She was alone for the moment, and though there was no smile in her face, a feeling of relief was slowly reaching her, as she gave a promise that she meant as much as her wedding vows when she pronounced them.

"Anakin Skywalker, you will be reunited with your bride again."

* * *

 **AN:** So that was mostly just a lot of dialogue… I hope it wasn't too boring.

I just want to say this is not the best chapter in this story—and it won't be long for Padmé to stop suffering so much… soon _she_ will be the one inflicting pain! Kinda. Thanks for reading =) Please review and let me know how I am doing!


	4. No Twisted Nerves

**Chapter 3: No Twisted Nerves**

 **IMPERIAL CENTER**

"We can only assume, my dear apprentice; that she's dead." Darth Sidious's words entered Vader's ears and instantly reached the young Sith's dark heart. The idea had reached him before, he _had_ considered it, but he rejected it every time. Though as time kept passing, it was becoming harder.

A year had passed and there was no sight of her.

He could not, no matter how hard he tried, feel her. Her presence had completely disappeared, much like Kenobi's.

She had vanished… but did that really mean she was dead?

Had Vader actually believed that, he would've lost his mind. He would've gone crazy—he would've most likely killed his master for having sent him away so often, giving Kenobi the opportunity to take her away. But as it was, Vader was sure he would see her again. He couldn't explain it to himself; he just felt that it was going to happen. They would be reunited. She was alive. She just _had to_ be alive. And wherever she was, Padmé was most definitely thinking about him.

He was sure, without attempting to be vain, that he lived in her thoughts at all times; much like she often lived in his.

With that small comfort, the young Sith Lord could continue acting the way his master wanted him to; he could go on with his usual… responsibilities. Keeping the galaxy in check.

There were many times when he had to push his wife from his mind; but that was okay, because he knew that she thought of their love and marriage enough for the two.

Whenever Vader was done with a mission, he could finally allow himself the pleasure of thinking of her; and the even bigger pleasure of knowing, that she, too, was thinking of him.

* * *

 **DAGOBAH**

Padmé Amidala narrowed her eyes; she took a small and all too quick step back, her hands clasping the lightsaber that once belonged to the man she hated more than anyone or anything in the galaxy.

She tried to not think about her lightsaber's former owner; she tried to focus on only the twin blue blade that was coming her way. And on the Jedi holding it against her. But she couldn't. The same name that always haunted her rang repeatedly in her troubled head.

 _Anakin… Anakin… Anakin… Anakin… Anakin… Anak—_

 _Ahhh!_

"Obi-Wan!" she angrily cried, almost running from him. The reaction was stupid, his face showed it and her mind agreed. But she couldn't help it, it was her natural response. He had almost grazed her skin with his lightsaber.

"You're too distracted," the Jedi scolded. "Get back to the present, Padmé."

"I am in the present!" she cried, sounding offended.

Kenobi sighed, tiredly.

Padmé looked down, embarrassed.

"Let's continue," Kenobi proposed.

Padmé nodded along, agreeing without words. She ignited the weapon again and stood before the Jedi master. He watched her for a few moments, deeply, before doing anything else.

Finally, he approached her; he just pointed his lightsaber at Padmé, circling around her, almost making the woman feel dizzy. Padmé was alert; awaiting, patiently like she had been taught. At last, both blades clashed.

Padmé's attacks weren't so weak and sloppy, as they had been in the beginning, but the situation was too under controlled. She presented no threat whatsoever to the Jedi before her, and she was perfectly aware of it. That was a scary thought; if she could hardly make a difference to a Jedi, how was she ever going to kill two Sith Lords?

As Padmé continued her little "dance" with Kenobi, images of her husband invaded her mind again: The blue of the blades clashing so close to her, as well as Kenobi's own bright and sweet pairs of blues, brought Anakin's enchanting eyes to her.

Anakin's eyes… they were once so loving, they were once her favorite sight in the world.

They were so deep and piercing; so blue and wild, like the deep blue sea…

She could see now, too, the ocean as she floated with her love above it. He had his arms around her, he was whispering sweet nothings… then he was shouting. And he wasn't holding her, he was grabbing her. Pressing her against his own hard body, not a trace of tenderness in his touch, just a mad desire to kill her… and when she looked up to meet his gaze, she no longer saw blue. It was an evil and entrancing yellow glance. She saw into the eyes of her torturer's a last time, and then—

BANG!

BANG!

"Oh!" she cried and grunted as she hit the floor. Kenobi using the Force to bring her back into the present world.

She threw her lightsaber away and put her hands on her sad face, cleaning the tears that were now flooding her cheeks.

Obi-Wan called the lightsaber to his hand, he watched her as she lay on the floor, and without saying anything, he entered the hut in which he and Padmé slept.

* * *

He sat on the small living room, regarding both lightsabers, thinking about how different the fight had been when the original owner fought him.

He could not dwell on his painful thoughts much longer, as a few minutes later, he felt a bright presence enter the hut.

"Well, Obi-Wan?" Yoda asked, sternly.

"Not much progress," he said in despair.

"Hmmm, truthfully?"

Kenobi stood up and started pacing around the small place. "She is far from mastering Form I, master Yoda. I am not saying she's not learning. In fact, she's learned faster than I ever would've imagined. But…"

"Intense her feelings for young Skywalker still are," Yoda said, looking up at the younger Jedi. "But of love, nothing is left."

"She hates him, I think, with the same intensity with which she must've loved him…but that's the problem. She's ruled by her emotions—and her emotions are so strong! I can feel them, and I don't know what to do about them. I mean, I had that problem when training Anakin. But at least he was trying to reach into the light, then. But Padmé…"

"Think of nothing but killing she does."

"Yes, master."

"Changed your mind you have?" Yoda asked with caution.

Kenobi said nothing but he did shake his head.

"To train her we have promised, Obi-Wan. And that we will do, but you know as well as me: teaching her to kill him we are not."

Yoda gave Kenobi a look of mixed pensiveness and pity, he called Anakin's lightsaber into his small green hands, and then he exited the humble hut.

When he was alone, Obi-Wan was able of expressing with freedom, "I am."

* * *

Padmé heard the small steps of Yoda and almost instantly knew he was approaching her.

She passed her hands over her face again, trying to hide all previous signs of weeping.

"Master Yoda," she acknowledged and greeted.

"Miss Amidala," his small frame was now standing next to her, their eyes could've easily met if only Padmé didn't stare so strongly at the ground below her.

Before saying anything else, Yoda pointed the weapon at her, not igniting it, but motioning her to grab it. She shook her head.

"I'm too tired," she said. "I've had enough training for today."

"Hmm?" Yoda only slapped the ancient weapon at her shoulder, insisting she picked it up.

Padmé knew by now that winning an argument against the Jedi master was not something easily accomplished— even for an experienced politician. And she was indeed, very tired. So she preferred the exhaustion caused by training to that one caused by speaking.

She picked up the lightsaber. As always, she was shocked to see it was much heavier than it looked.

" _This weapon is my life," Anakin said, looking into her eyes and putting his weapon in her hands, "And it's yours." The implication in his words made her heart race and her spirits were lifted._

 _The next thing she saw was his face approaching her, ready to put his lips on her mouth…_

"Rise," Yoda said and she did so. "Now," the Jedi master said a few moments later. "Where is your mind?"

Padmé shook her head and released air. "It's here in the presen—"

 _Fuck!_

She never even noticed his action: Yoda swiftly ignited his lightsaber and before she could have the time to react, he grazed her left arm with it.

Padmé grunted in pain and stepped back.

"Where is your mind?" Yoda repeated, his voice loud but calm.

She pictured the ocean, Varykino's sunset, a bloodshot sky…

 _Whoa!_

She managed to deflect Yoda's attack; she swung her own lightsaber and tried to slash at the master's skin. He turned and jumped high, Padmé looked out for the emerald blade that she really didn't want to feel on her skin again.

"Where is your mind?" Yoda asked once again.

She said nothing; she opened her eyes wide and pointed the weapon ahead.

When again the Jedi neared her, he swung his blade at her, jumping only high enough to almost touch her face; with one sweeping of her lightsaber, she managed to keep him from completing his attack. Without thinking much about it, her immediate next move was thrust the blue blade against the green one, then to jump to be at a great distance from Yoda.

Yet the distance did nothing to make her think Yoda was done, she kept her saber at hand, waiting for the next attack.

She saw the small alien walk to her, slowly and calmly, by the time he reached her, he had put his sword away.

"Again I ask," Yoda said, smiling. "Where is your mind?"

Padmé grinned at him. She still had not put her lightsaber away.

"It is here, master," she said and bowed her head.

"You may dispose of your weapon now," he said kindly. "Let us sit and speak, Former Senator."

Padmé smiled and did as he said.

"Into the hut come," Yoda said. "Heal you I will. And as a thank you, a cup of tea, maybe?"

She smiled at him again. "Of course, Master Yoda."

* * *

Padmé handed Yoda and Obi-Wan a cup of tea respectfully; she sat with them and enjoyed herself a hot cup that felt like heaven.

"How are your nerves now?" Kenobi asked caringly.

She took a sip and gently said, "Much better."

Kenobi struggled to return the smile she gave him; he said nothing but inwardly thought, _At least that makes one of us…_

* * *

 **AN:** Thoughts?


	5. No One Alive Can Always Be an Angel

**Chapter 4: No One Alive Can Always Be An Angel**

 **ALDERAAN**

She had been in that wide, luxurious bedroom for about four to five days now; for the first time in years, that former privileged queen and senator experienced the comfort of a beautiful palace.

Her bedroom had a balcony that looked out to the back garden of the Organa's palace, perfectly well-concealed. The window she opened to feel the fresh air on her face had rich, laced-white curtains, which matched her gorgeous, lavish robes.

Padmé Amidala paraded herself in front of no one in her chamber; her white dress swept the shiny floors, and her fiery dark eyes were almost hidden behind an also perfect, clean-white veil. She was a beauty. Time and sorrow had not changed that.

There was a knock on her door, one that didn't catch Padmé by surprise; she had been in such solitude and silence, while also very aware of her surroundings and alert—she heard the footsteps coming seconds ahead. The loud clicking of a high, probably expensive heel made her think it probably was Queen Breha.

She opened the door, and indeed, there she was, the wife of Viceroy Bail Organa, Queen of Alderaan; she greeted Padmé with her kind, almost motherly face.

"Hello dear," Breha said and Padmé smiled to herself, a silent pat on her shoulder for her small, successful insight.

"Your Majesty," Padmé bowed her head.

"Oh don't," Breha smiled. "Please, this really isn't the time for formalities."

"For what is it, then?" Padmé asked, her voice sounding calm to the point of sternness.

Breha straightened her shoulders, cleared her throat and said, "Bail and I wish for you to join us at dinner. And you don't have to worry… we've kept only the most loyal of servants so there's no way anyone could know—"

"That I am here?" Padmé interrupted. "But, my dear Queen, I am! Why should it be keep a secret?"

"Padmé, please. You know…"

"Oh you're worried about Anakin?" Breha jumped at the mention of that name no one else ever used anymore. "Don't be. If I left my… _sanctuary_ in Dagobah, it wasn't to remain hidden from him. After all, how much longer till he feels the tremor in the Force? He's at the very least going to grow suspicious… But don't fret, I'm not staying here long enough to get you and Bail in troubles."

The queen looked shocked and almost appalled. "Oh Padmé," she sighed. "You speak as though you don't fear him… as if you thought he could find you—"

"He will find me," Padmé quickly said, her voice growing angry. A bit hostile. "And if not, I'll go to him. That _meeting_ is unavoidable."

Breha almost fainted. "Oh how could you say that? I know you've been through a lot—"

"No," Padmé interrupted her again. "You… don't even know half of what I've been through… what he did to me," she rubbed her flat belly. "It doesn't matter; you will hear about what I'll do to him—everyone will."

Breha looked around, uncomfortably, and Padmé smirked. "So let's go to dinner!" Padmé said brightly, smiling like her old dead self, acting the part of the perfect guest.

The Queen shuddered at the sudden change, but also smiled politely and she and Padmé walked to the dining room.

* * *

What Master Yoda had expected would be a great breath of fresh air for poor, bitter Padmé, had no effect whatsoever on her.

The warm, classic beauty of Alderaan; the comfort of being amongst royalty again; the ease and security… They were no different to Padmé than the dark, swampy nightmare that was Dagobah. Her thoughts were no different. They raged over and over the same…

 _KILL ANAKIN!_

 _KILL ANAKIN!_

 _KILL ANAKIN!_

Who while watching her at that moment could guess such rage and hatred on that sweet, young face?

Perhaps just the one. The man that had been gazing upon her as she walked around the Organa's rose garden.

"How're you doing now, my dear?" Obi-Wan asked, cautiously, walking behind her.

"Same as always," she answered simply. "How long do you reckon we'll be here?"

"Padmé," he said, standing in front of her to make her stop her walk. "Master Yoda was very clear… He was hoping you'd want to stay here permanently."

"I'm never having a home again, Obi-Wan. You know I get up every morning only for one reason…"

"Yes," he sighed. "To kill the Sith Lord. Padmé, if you only knew. I've heard such things—such horrifying things about Darth Vader!"

Padmé growled, for no reason other than that she hated when people used that name on Anakin. It infuriated her. It made her think people were excusing Anakin. As if he were innocent and Vader the corrupted devil that took over his body. No. There was no Darth Vader in her head. There only was Anakin Skywalker—the man she once loved more dearly than life. The one she was soon to kill.

"Then you must be eager to tell me," Padmé shrewdly said, a bit of mischief in her dark eyes. "The secret that till now you and Master Yoda had denied me?"

"How to kill a Sith Lord? I thought we covered that with the lightsaber duel practice?" he said in return, a handsome smile gracing his tired face.

"You know what I mean," Padmé spat, annoyed.

He stared into her eyes, both glances locking as an odd, tacit message passed.

 _A silent yes?_ Padmé wondered. He said nothing but nodded, motioning her to follow him.

* * *

Entering the picturesque city that seemed more like a homely town, caused the feeling Yoda had meant to bring by sending Padmé to Alderaan to almost burst inside her.

The place was in many ways similar to Naboo… to Theed… to her home. Oh it hurt but it also brought her some joy—joy she scornfully rejected.

When they were by the square, all warm feelings that might had developed inside her faded. The endless lines of stormtroopers bringing her anger and hate out again.

"What the hell do you mean by this?" Padmé asked. "Do you want people to see me?"

"People are seeing you, my dear," Obi-Wan said, nonchalantly. "But they hardly notice you, do you see?"

"And?"

"You've asked me what you lack to kill. I've chosen to show you."

"I don't understand."

"Patience, my apprentice. I've grown tired of saying that."

"Explain yourself better, will you?"

"All right. I'll be more direct. In short, what you lack before a kill, is _cruelty_."

Padmé stood silent for a moment. "How do you mean'"

"Slashing a Sith Lord to pieces might not be something I regret. It was necessary—but I don't think I employed no cruelty as I swung my lightsaber."

"I still don't get it…"

"You might be able to fight using a lightsaber. You might be skilled with a blaster. You might have successfully used both in the past. But could you again, to kill a man whom you once swore to love forever?"

Padmé looked at the stormtroopers again. "I _am_ capable of murder," she said, trying to sound convincing.

"We're here to test that." Obi-Wan answered simply.

* * *

"Where are my guests?" Viceroy Bail Organa asked one of his guards.

"They left some time ago, Your Excellency. I believe they were seen walking towards the way to the Square, Downtown."

"What?" Bail paled, hardly believing that. _Are they mad?_

* * *

"This is madness," Padmé said, frowning. "You're joking?"

"Hardly," Obi-Wan said. "Can you be cruel? Brave? Mad? All at once? You're going to need to."

Padmé took a deep breath. "Fine," she said.

"What?" Obi-Wan was taken aback.

"I'll be brave," Padmé mocked. "I certainly can be mad. And I will be… _Cruel_."

Obi-Wan paled, yet he did nothing to stop her. He merely nodded and watched her go.

Padmé walked towards a couple of white-armored soldiers who were separated from the crowds, talking, relaxed.

Was she really doing this? Padmé stood before them, her right hand reached for the hilt of her lightsaber, she palpated it for some time.

They turned to see her for a short second but didn't seem to give her much importance.

" _Are you an angel?" the little boy said, an innocent sweet, blue glance shining with hope._

" _What?" Padmé said, smirking; the strange words catching her off-guard._

" _An angel," he said, simply. "I heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They live on the moons of Iego, I think. They are good and kind, and so pretty they make even the most hardened spice pirates cry."_

"Morning, Ma'am," one of the troopers said; the other ignored her and continued talking to his partner.

Padmé stopped for a second, wondering what they looked like underneath the imperial armors. Surely there were men there, human and feeble. Somebody's sons…

Yet if they knew who she was… If they knew she once was known as Queen Amidala, and then a highly respected senator—the secret wife of a Jedi, the war hero turned Sith Lord. Their current commander…

They'd take her. Against her will. And if taken to the Emperor, no one would show her mercy—why should she?

Without wasting another moment, she said, loudly, determinately yet calm—

"Where is… Darth Vader?" she asked, the Sith name burning her tongue.

" _You're a funny little boy." Padmé smiled at him. "How do you know so much?"_

" _Since I was very little, three, I think. My Mom and I were sold to Gardulla the Hutt, but she lost us, betting on the Podraces, to Watto, who's a lot better master than Gardulla, I think."_

" _You're... a slave?" Padmé questioned, appalled._

" _I am a person! And my name is Anakin." The little boy said, clearly hurt and angered by her words—words that couldn't be nothing but the truth._

 _Yet she felt wrong for pointing out and making him say that horrible fact. The fact that he wasn't free._

" _I'm sorry," she apologized. "I don't fully understand. "This is a strange world to me."_

" _You are a strange girl to me." Anakin said, staring at Padmé with a feeling she couldn't decipher._

It had all happened too fast.

The troopers were about to detain and arrest Padmé for her insolence. She turned her eyes immediately to see Obi-Wan, but he was sitting on a bench, clearly leaving her to handle what she had started. Wasting no other moment, Padmé pulled out and ignited her lightsaber, green blade that shined as she mutilated the hands that had tried to grab her.

A moment of general stupor invaded Padmé and Alderaan's square; then the loud sounds of civilians screams and then blaster fire covered her ears. Obi-Wan walked, not towards Padmé and the fighting, but to a safe space, also getting the people away from the sudden danger.

The stormtroopers fired at Padmé and she dodged the fire swiftly, though not so easily, with her lightsaber. She had not yet killed anyone. There were about twelve soldiers in total, four already laid on the floor, knocked out.

Padmé's next move was to pull out her blaster—which was set for stun—and she managed to remain, being just her and then another soldier standing. No one had died yet—she had been acting like Masters Yoda and Obi-Wan had instructed her all that time in Dagobah.

Though she started it, she had just defended herself. Technically, she was only defending herself, still acting like a Jedi. She was no Jedi. She could be cruel, she told herself. _Cruel like a Sith. I will kill a Sith!_

The trooper that was still standing fired at Padmé again. She jumped high, making a full spin in the air, yet he managed to graze her left shoulder. She felt a burning sensation but she ignored it with ease— after a large groan.

Every new shot he sent her way she deflected with her lightsaber. He got closer, and closer and then—he stopped, froze his pace, just inches away from Padmé. She had buried her lightsaber in his chest. Trespassed the strong armor. Yet she reached no heart.

The trooper fell backwards to the floor, the blade still deep into him. Padmé just stared at him. Taking the time to understand she had done that.

"Hurry," she heard behind her.

"W-what?" she muttered, not turning to look at Obi-Wan; her dark eyes, once sweet and pure like those of an angel, gazing deeply at the man she had almost killed.

"They're going to send reinforcements soon." Obi-Wan said. "Get your lightsaber back."

Padmé vacillated for a moment, then kneeled in front of the trooper. She slowly put her hands on the laser sword, she pulled it out with difficulty—hearing groans of pain as she did. And just as she finally managed to rescue her weapon from the hard armor and skin that were clinging to it, the trooper moved, grabbing her by the hair, pulling her down with all his remaining strength.

She released a loud scream of panic, collected her weapon and slashed at the man under her. She did that action with closed eyes; unsure of what she was trying to do apart from freeing herself from him. It wasn't until Obi-Wan picked her up from the floor that she saw:

The helmet with a head next to its body.

Shuddering, Padmé escaped the square with Obi-Wan hurrying her.

* * *

"Your Majesty. We just received news—twelve troopers were attacked in the city's square. One dead." Bail Organa was informed.

"Okay," Bail said, returning to the other report he was reading.

"Should we send help?" the guard asked.

"Were there any civilians hurt?"

"No, Your Excellency."

"Then no."

* * *

"What now?" Padmé asked Obi-Wan. Hidden deep in the woods.

"I see you're on a point of no return…" he said. "Yet you're not ready and I have nothing else to teach you."

"So you're abandoning me?"

"No. I'm transferring you."

Padmé hadn't the energy to ask what he meant by that. Turns out, for once, Obi-Wan had meant exactly what he said.

For once he spoke literally.

* * *

 **AN:** I fear the pace of this story is too slow, but really… Transitioning Padmé from the kind and rational Senator we know and love to a bloodthirsty assassin has not been the easiest thing… This is an AU and very unrealistic but I hope it's seeming at least a bit plausible!

Also, the title of this chapter comes from Nina Simone's song Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood, if you've seen Kill Bill, you probably noticed that instantly :)

Also, also… Someone mentioned Yoda playing the part of Pai Mei, but I think of him as the Hattori Hanzo of the story—forging Padmé to be her own weapon but not really with the intention of making her a killer.

She needs to learn cruelty to perform it… and that she will, next chapter. Can you guess from who? The last 'training' one. Then the revenge truly starts… If you have any word of advice, complain or suggestion, I'm all ears :)


	6. Cruelty Of The Sith

**Chapter 5: Cruelty Of The Sith**

 **TATOOINE**

Leaving the semi-safety of their spaceship, feeling the burning sensation of the hot, yellow sand on her feet, Padmé walked unsteadily behind Obi-Wan, as a twirl of memories and emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

She had not been on that planet in such a long time; since she was a newly crowned queen, a fourteen year old teenager with ambitions, hopes and dreams. Completely unaware of what the future lay for her—what waited for her on that very planet.

"You bring me to his home planet," Padmé said, her voice as dry as the environment. "I am afraid that again I don't understand you."

Was he trying to hurt her?

Was that Obi-Wan's way of being cruel?

If his intentions really were those… Then they were working because she felt a smothering pain on her chest, so vilely painful and real, she turned her eyes towards every side, checking for any Sith Lord with a raised hand in attack.

But no, the pain was in her head.

The memories and what they implied were destroying her…

 _Anakin! Anakin! Anakin!_

The surroundings just _screamed_ his name. They showed her his face. Not as the man she grew to love. Not as the monster she came to hate. But as the sweet little boy that once made her smile in the most innocent of ways; the one who saved her life and her entire planet when both were so threatened.

"I can't be here," Padmé suddenly said, her voice almost betraying her and letting Obi-Wan aware of her emotions. "Let's go! I just can't be here—"

"Padmé," Obi-Wan spoke kindly and with almost pity. "We're here for a very good reason."

"I can't wait to hear it," she spat sarcastically, trying to veil her obvious and large pain.

Obi-Wan walked her, keeping her by his side with an air of protectiveness around him. Padmé had no Jedi insight, she couldn't really feel him through the Force, but she was sure she could sense the dread and uneasiness from Kenobi. She could see trouble in his very walk, which for the moment was uncharacteristically ungraceful.

The scorching twin suns were out of sight. The dark night was almost cool. The sandy ground on which they trod almost soft. Where was he taking her?

At last they came into sight of something apart from the great dunes. There was such stillness and silence Padmé doubted anyone apart from them was there.

Just standing outside of the humble hut, Padmé saw Obi-Wan gain his good old countenance: confident and calm. And she was sure it was pretended.

When a few moments passed to nothing at all in particular, Padmé ventured: "Should we… knock?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "He knows we're here already."

"How so?"

"He must've definitely sensed our presences."

 _Hmm,_ Padmé thought _, A Jedi in there…?_

"Why is he keeping us waiting then?" Padmé asked.

"I am not sure. Maybe he's making sure we aren't planning some form of treachery. I sincerely hope he's also not planning any of his own."

His words made Padmé very anxious. Who exactly was in there?

Time afterwards, she got her answer—though that hardly made her feel any better.

The door opened, and from it, Padmé saw him emerge, and more than a man, she thought him a creature than barely resembled humans: skin a natural, almost diabolical red; tattooed black all over. Large and tall, probably more thanks to demeanor than actual height. The hairless head was horned. And the eyes, the very sight Padmé detested the most, were a shocking piercing yellow.

 _A Sith Lord._

Padmé didn't shrink in fear, she instead curved her head to the side, and muttered at Obi-Wan's ear, unable of holding back: "Obi-Wan… what the fuck?"

She heard the Zabrac male laugh, dark and disturbingly.

"Well, at least she does not coil back at seeing me," the dark, rich voice said.

Padmé held her head high and locked eyes with Maul Opress.

"Darth Maul…" Padmé said, slowly, allowing her hatred for the Sith to be displayed.

In a second, Maul, who had been at quite a distance from them, jumped in front of her. Now she couldn't help but to take a step back.

"I. Am. Not. A. Sith. Lord." He said, his burning glance boring into her brown eyes.

"Good for you," Padmé said, not really sure of why she spoke with such a mocking tone.

Obi-Wan intervened. "Well, I am not exactly glad to see you've kept your promise."

"The feeling is mutual." Maul stated.

Padmé was sure the sand and heat had gone to her head. No way that was actually happening. What business did she have, standing in between two mortal enemies as they conversed almost casually?

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Obi-Wan, I am afraid I must again inquire as to what is happening."

"You haven't explained it to her?" Maul asked. "Typical. So predictable of the Jedi… to twist the mind of their apprentices. Believing them to be unready, and keeping them in the dark."

"I believe it is the Sith who usually keep their students in the dark?" Obi-Wan quipped, almost amused.

Padmé saw the yellow eyes flashed with hatred as they abandoned her form to be set upon Obi-Wan. She was sure Obi-Wan had gone mad. And maybe she was crazy, too, as she completely sided with Maul on this one.

"I want to know what's happening!" she cried.

Both elder males turned to see her.

"Yes, Kenobi. She has a right to. She probably thinks you're on a suicide mission or something. Rest assure, Former Queen of Naboo. I have promised not to murder you."

 _Why, though?_

"We both have made promises that concern you Padmé. But it is absolutely up to you to accept the deal or not." Obi-Wan said.

"What the hell is the _deal_?"

"You will be left on this planet, under my tutelage." Maul said and Padmé immediately paled.

"You're abandoning me?" she questioned, staring accusingly at Kenobi, feeling that he had betrayed her. "If you were sick of me—of training me, you could've just said so!"

"It is not like that!" Kenobi exclaimed. "It's just that, everything I could have taught you, I already have. Yet you're unprepared to meet with the two Sith Lords you intent to kill. And I know you will no matter what go after them… That's what brought us to Darth here, I mean, _Mr. Opress_." There was a hint of sarcasm at the end of his sentence which made Maul grunt.

"And why would this—he help us?"

"His true motives are not exactly to aid, but to avenge. He, like you, has many reasons to want Darth Sidious and Darth Vader dead."

Padmé turned to Maul again. "Do you really think… I could kill them?"

Maul took a deep breath. "I have a very well planned strategy that I think will help you."

"Padmé, you can still say no," Obi-Wan reminded her, his voice almost pleading. She could tell now, maybe the Jedi had wished for her to be so afraid and disgusted with Maul to refuse.

She already knew her answer. She was sure she almost saw tears corner around Obi-Wan's eyes as she told him: she would stay and be trained by Maul.

* * *

Maul would not wait for too long. A few seconds had passed after Kenobi disappeared from sight, and he already had that _"Let us begin_ " look around his eyes.

He paced in circles around her, his own steps and the wind blowing smoky sand like a magnificent cape behind everywhere he trod.

"So you want to kill a Sith Lord, but you do not want to be neither Sith or Jedi."

Padmé nodded.

"And how do you imagine you'd do that?"

Padmé could not meet his yellow eyes. Besides, they burned from all the dirt and sand, and so she kept them closed. Tightly shut as she felt his hot breath grazing her face. She knew he had come to a halt in front of her.

She hated herself for how much she was shaking.

"I—I think my best shot really is to use a blaster—"

"There's a sentimental reason around that, too. Isn't there?" he interrupted.

"What?"

"It is the weapon you're most familiar with, having spent more than half your life using it. And it is also… the weapon _He_ used when he thought he killed you."

"D-did Obi-Wan tell you that?" Padmé demanded, her voice now shaking with anger.

"You told me that," Maul said; his calm, rich baritone voice darker than ever.

Padmé opened her eyes wide in confusion.

He gave a small laugh—it gave her chills. "You were just thinking about it. You opened your mind for me to see."

She felt her knees going weak. No, she could not do this if he could so easily read into her thoughts!

She reached for the hilt of her lightsaber, but stopped frozen as he laughed again.

"I would think twice about that. My deal with Kenobi stated I would not kill while I received the same treatment. Attack me once and I would slash your beautiful body in pieces." She felt as his hands roamed her as he spoke.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded.

"We've established that. Don't worry." His hands left her. "For the moment, I only wish you would answer my question. Go on."

She breathed in and out, many times. "If a blaster doesn't work, I could duel him—"she stopped again, his laughter now infuriated her.

"I can handle a lightsaber!" she screamed, offended to her very core.

"Can you?" he question, his voice filled with amusement.

"Try me."

His evil glance scanned her. "That I would love."

Padmé was looking forward to erase the smug, condescending look from his face,

She ignited her lightsaber, the green blade Yoda had bequeathed on her.

She looked at him, watch for the surroundings, watch for his own weapon, which she knew he had, but he didn't reach for.

Twisting her arms in a graceful movement, before she could try to slash at him, her body froze and he laughed.

"Go on, attack me!" he taunted. Padmé struggled and tried the most her body would allow but she could not move. "Oh Queen Amidala," he sighed as if in pity. "See your problem clearly now, don't you?"

She did nothing else but her lightsaber turned off, the green light disappearing before her very eyes, knowing, the fact scaring her deeply, that he had done it.

Tears fell reluctantly from her sad eyes. He did a hand movement, and she fell exhausted to the ground.

"Cry, do it," he advised. "Don't hold it in or you might explode. It's all you can do. It's all fable women and men can ever do. Do you realize it now? You're no match for the power of the Dark Side."

" _I will kill him,"_ Padmé muttered against her tears, swallowing them salty sparkles. "I will kill him!"

"You may, only if you do as I tell you."

"You will train me then?"

"Not like you and Kenobi expected. If you think I would allow a Force-less heartbroken girl to swing a lightsaber in my presence, you're sadly mistaken. Remember how embarrassed and angry you were when I looked into your mind? Well, You Poor Wretch, it will be _**deadly**_ when the Sith and his Apprentice do it to you. They will sense your intentions, the minute you land on their planet. They will be prepared. They would kill you with ease—unless…"

"Unless what?" she gasped.

"Unless you lock your mind. Which you _can_ and _will_ do. Display yourself before Darth Vader, act like you forgive him and you're madly in love. Behave like his own slave! Deceive him into killing his master! And after he does, kill Vader in his sleep."

Padmé took a moment to comprehend his words. "That's…" she said. "The most cowardly option I had never considered! It sounds like the utmost treachery."

"Treachery, is the way of the Sith. That's how they should and must die. Not in a clean, fair fight which you've been foolish enough to imagine."

"I will never be able to conceal my hatred for Vader!"

"You will," he said simply. "Because I will teach you."

"I want to slash him in pieces! I want him to suffer a long time!"

"It is a beautiful and much deserved fate for him, but it's not a very probable one."

"Why can't you at least give me a chance? You coward didn't even try to duel me before using the Force to stop me and shield yourself—"

In a split second, Padmé heard the double _hiss-snap_ of Maul's weapons. The burning, melting red covered her eyes, and going by instinct, she ignited her own weapon. She could only deflect and escape the sure slashes he threw her way. He brought her to the floor again in mere moments, and seeing more clearly, Padmé realized two lightsaber were crossing her neck, almost splitting her body from her head.

Sweat fell in thick drops from her forehead to her neck and breasts.

"You will do as I tell you, yes or no?" Maul demanded.

"Y—yes!" Padmé stammered.

"Yes what?"

"What?"

One of his feet came to rest harshly on her knee, making her scream in pain. It felt like someone smacked a piece of metal on her skin.

"Answer me!" he cried.

"W—what—ah! Oohh stop!"

His foot had found her abdomen, he was stomping on her with immense strength, completely taking the air out of her.

"I am not the fool Kenobi, neither the eccentric Yoda," he said, releasing the pressure from her aching body. "You will always refer to me as Master. Understand?"

"Y—yes Master!" she panted a quiet whisper full of ache.

"Good, now get up. You have to make me dinner," he harshly stated.

She felt a pair of invisible hands lifted her from the floor and pushed her inside the hut.

* * *

She hated him.

She felt her own humanity slip away every time they were together.

She had to serve him in every way. Cook for him. Keep the hut. Stand his many every day insults for being a non-Force-sensitive, a human, a woman, a Nabooian like Palpatine, and like the Emperor, a politician.

He would think nothing of using violence against her. After all, he had promised Obi-Wan not to kill, he made no such promise in regard to harming…

He absolutely delighted in taunting. There was not a day in which he trained her when he didn't mock her lack of progress in some way.

He also seemed to have no concept of privacy. He would enter her small room even if she was changing or bathing. He never reacted until she did. He always seemed pleased to hurt her in any way.

There was no such thing as back talk between them. Most of the time. Of course, there was the random moment in which she couldn't hold in a snarky or sassy comment, or even refused to refer to him as _Master_.

He was, Padmé had easily and quickly concluded, a very different teacher to Kenobi and Yoda, indeed.

Yet, oddly as it is, she preferred it.

Maul never would try to spare her feelings with a lie. He was mercilessly honest, and too much, with her.

Her failures he would multiply. Her progress he diminished. And so, without a compliment to encourage her, she tried with every particle of her physical being and soul to work hard in everything he commanded.

She didn't care if he didn't recognize her learning because she could see it.

In the beginning she would experience his wrath in the form of some hit or injury of some sort every time she knew he read into her thoughts. Now though… She could lock her mind. She could keep him out. Her thoughts were her own, and not for anyone else.

And so… She tried to convince him again.

She defied him to a lightsaber duel. He refused. She asked for a blaster to keep practicing, this he allowed, though it was always set for stun just in case.

She would attempt it at the most random moments. While he sat to meditate, she tried pulling out her blaster and fire at him, but he always saw it coming, and was always prepared to deflect.

It was some time after she managed to lock her mind completely. She was serving Maul his Tatooine dinner. As she set the table, and they made company in silence, she went for it: she fired and he hadn't a moment to protect himself. She fired at where his heart should be and he fell to the floor with a loud thud.

She carried him to his bed, terrified for the punishment she would receive when he woke up. But he surprised her. When he regained consciousness, he grinned at her, his mouth almost twisted into a smile. She could almost swear he'd been proud.

* * *

Another day, a new pain for Padmé.

She laid on the sand like one dead. A fire before her. Cruel laughter from above.

"Rise, now! I order you!" a roar made her jump in time.

Her master had two lightsabers, one in each hand, both red, pointed at her.

She grabbed her green blade of a sword, even more tightly. _Help me, Master…_ she thought, imagining Yoda by her side. Always merciful of those who needed it…

"Do not call out anyone," Maul said. "Reach out only, hear me well, ONLY, to the Force."

Padmé passed her free hand over her face, cleaning the spurring blood that flooded her beautiful features. She did not want to fight anymore. She wanted to be safe and sound… But could she have heard that right?

In all their time together, Maul had treated her like a being beneath the help of the Force, now he advised her to reach for it and demand help?

She had had suspicious for a while. She had, for some mad moments, believed that Maul was thinking of her like an actual worthy apprentice.

Maybe it did not go that far… But he at least had now agreed to prepare her for a lightsaber duel. He had almost massacred the shit out of her, but he did not kill. And she thought, this went far beyond his promise to Kenobi. Come to think of it, why did they ever trusted the word of a former Sith?

She stood up, faced his challenging face. She was so close she could now see her master's eyes had splashes of red amidst the fiery yellow.

 _He believes I can do it…_ she thought desperately. _I know I can do it!_

He did not use the Force against her. He allowed her long-time training to show. He would never let her win to spare her feelings or give her confidence… And so she was sure she had fucking bested him.

Maul laid on the floor, his face covered in dirt. The twin suns were about to set. The beautiful, scorching sunset at its point.

The fight had not been long but detailed. Padmé grabbed her lightsaber with both hands, and slashed at the sand next to Maul's head. His face showed it. It could've been _his_ head had she wanted to. He smiled his wicked smile at her.

"The next thing you would do," he said after spitting blood, "is to take my lightsabers. You cannot call them to your precious hands with the Force, so be quick and take them!"

"Yes, Master," she nodded respectfully.

"Watch for my legs," he said. "Make them steady so I don't kick you."

She pressed herself on top of his body that laid on the sand. The blood that ran through her veins was throbbing and burning. Her skin on fire not just from the _actual_ fire a few steps from them, but for Tatooine's incredible heat. She pressed with all her strength her knees on his own.

"Take my lightsaber, both at the same time. If you take each you will give me time to use the other one."

"Yes, Master," she said and both of her hands directed to take his weapons.

"Now," he said. "Help me up."

"Yes Master." She threw the weapons away and gave him a hand.

He squeezed her palm hard. "This hand," he said. "Once was so soft and tender. You would have believed it was meant for caresses and wholesome goodness only. Now they're rough from work and struggle. My apprentice, you are ready. You must go now!"

* * *

 **AN:** Was that the most unrealistic chapter so far? Mmhh… Hope you enjoyed anyway ;)

Original title for this chapter was _The Cruel Tutelage of Maul Opress_ , to keep with the Kill Bill homage—but that would've been too much of a spoiler.

I'm sorry for the long wait between chapters… I have the entire story planned out. The trouble is finding the time and the skill to put it into words!


	7. The Apprentice's Apprentice

**Chapter 6: The Apprentice's Apprentice**

 **IMPERIAL CENTER**

After the birth of the Galactic Empire, many changes came upon the galaxy. People's alliances were all over the place. It was clear that what came to be the Imperial Senate was nothing more than a façade for the common people. There seemed to be nothing much to be done except to hope; Emperor Palpatine ruled, and Darth Vader ensured so, with an iron fist.

One of the saddest and most pitiful changes was —according to some old patriotic people— the Capital's fate.

Coruscant had been a landmark for the Old Republic, changing it to Imperial Center was a harsh blow—not that anyone would complain _out loud_. But for someone who had been mostly or practically dead for years, coming back to it would be just painful.

No sight was more sigh-worthy than the Jedi Temple.

The old building, a mark of hope and faith… The home of the Jedi, the keepers of peace… At first, Emperor Palpatine had considered burning the place down completely, but upon consideration, and believing that his Apprentice had eradicated every trace of the ancient religion, he went for something else.

Now eight years after Anakin Skywalker's betrayal and the Emperor's rise to power, the old Temple rose solitary in the middle of the hectic city. No more Padawan learners grew there. No more worthy teachings were taught there. The signs; the symbols; the iconic infrastructure; the guards; the respect; _the masters!_ All but gone.

Night had come in the legendary city, though the many bright lights from the towering skyscrapers illuminated everything and everyone's step.

Inside the Temple, there were many laughs and happy moments of companionship.

The place had been turned into a home for survivors and Clone Wars veterans—aka, the Clones. Vomiting as it sounds, the very ones who helped Anakin Skywalker raid the Temple, all those years ago, killing everything that just so much as resembled a Jedi during Order Sixty-Six, even the innocent younglings.

Here they had retired—human stormtroopers were rapidly taking their place—with a few Force-sensitives that were allowed to not be killed (needing to be approved by Palpatine first, of course) so they could be trained as assassins to later become Hands of the Emperor. And who could train them if all Force-users were persecuted and killed by Darth Vader?

One of the Empire's finest assassin and former Jedi Padawan (she never got to be knighted) had such job.

She had been once almost killed by the Jedi themselves, wrongly and very unfairly accused of a horrible crime she never committed. Her alliance was blurry for some time after abandoning the Order. And so when her old master sought her in the hopes of saving her from the awful fate he assured her she would meet, she couldn't help but to turn her alliance to him.

Ahsoka Tano was no Sith apprentice, as there could only be two… Yet her once pure heart was constantly surrounded by the darkness.

Not at the moment, though. Not while she enjoyed dinner with her friends. These Clones all knew her since the previous war, as they had all been under her master's wing.

Once known as the 501st Legion, now Vader's Fist…

They were hanging in a private dining table at the top rooms, the affair quite exclusive as only a few Clones, a few human troopers, and a protocol droid accompanied Vader's favorite. Outside there was a large party, just a bunch of aristocrats Ahsoka had nothing to do with. Couldn't be helped of course, Palpatine's orders surpassed Vader's, which Ahsoka found outrageous but complied.

"Mistress Ahsoka," the protocol droid by her side, C-3PO said. "Will you be needing me all night or may I deactivate myself?"

She turned her blue eyes to the droid for a few moments, then went back to examine the cards game on the table. "I don't know, Threepio," she said. "If you really want to you may… Though I was enjoying you helping me."

"You were enjoying him allowing you to cheat," the mature voice of a Clone said.

"Shut up, Rex," Ahsoka grinned. "You're just angry 'cause you're losing."

"I am not too thrill about it… but I don't feel bad either. Granted, I could be winning just as easily if I got outside help!"

There were a few insults and fighting, then a sentence that made everyone tense.

One of the human stormtroopers suddenly said: "I wouldn't expect less from a former Jedi!"

He waited for everyone to laugh, but there only followed awkward silence. Perhaps he had thought that since former General Rex could tease Ahsoka then so could everyone. Little did he know, Ahsoka was very ashamed of her past as a Jedi. She hardly considered herself one since she was never even knighted.

"That comment is out of place, son," Rex said, knowing the trooper had bothered Ahsoka, but she broke in:

"No, no. By all means, speak Trooper. Say what's on your mind."

The trooper had clearly had too much Corellian wine already. "Well, honey…" his voice was slightly blurry, his helmet-less face stupid. "It's on your very blood! Not only were you raised here by the Jedi… you're not even human! I don't know what the Emperor thinks allowing you—"

She stood up with a swift movement, and before everyone's eyes could comprehend what was happening, she had jumped at the other side of the table, igniting a white blade, almost invisible, that slashed at the Trooper's head. With the Force, she lifted it and paraded it across the dining room. She walked next to the head, her previous outburst almost erased; her face cool, calm and collected.

The remaining humans looked appalled and disturbed beyond reason, the Clones almost smirked and continued drinking. C-3PO simply looked away.

"Let me be very clear," Ahsoka said smiling, her calm voice being menacing—she definitely learned that from Vader—, "just so there aren't any more _unpleasant_ occasions just as this," she waved to the floating head. "I don't want any of you to fear me. I want freedom to always be present in this _home_. Please always speak freely! Except—"her voice went lower and harsher. "—with regard to my Jedi and Togruta heritage in a negative way. I know racism reigns the Empire, and human superiority is very much the norm. But keep in mind, if you ever allude to that: it is your fucking head that will pay!" she screamed, her words resonating through the walls. "So," she went on. "Any human here is feeling superior to _me_?" she asked.

Every stormtrooper shook his head and cried _no_.

"I didn't think so," Ahsoka's voice went back to being sweet and kind. The floating head dropped to the floor. "I think it's a wrap for tonight." She said. "You may all do as you please. Sleep, accompany the party downstairs. I don't give a damn."

Little by little the table cleared. Ahsoka retired to a drawing room next door with C-3PO and a few other Clones to just chill.

There was no doubt about the power she possessed nowadays as Vader's favorite.

Such knowledge couldn't have escaped a woman who had spent years of her life obsessing over killing the man known as Vader, Anakin Skywalker.

Padmé Amidala stood in front of the former Jedi Temple, she stared at the building for a long time, as if in disbelief, and finally entered. The lives within the place were of no concern to Palpatine, therefor security wasn't very tight. She soon mixed with the large party of rich aristocrats and snobs, till her eyes finally found a familiar face:

Rex, he was pacing outside a high balcony, Padmé observed. He had just closed a door from where within, Padmé managed to spot Ahsoka Tano.

Padmé had thought her eyes would immediately water when first sighting the traitors of the Republic, the ones who once swore to fight and die for it; but her unbridled fury was taking over. She had gone to Coruscant with one goal in mind: to discover Anakin's whereabouts. After learning so much about the state of the Capital, well, she had thought her heart couldn't possibly be more broken; alas, she had been a fierce politician and it destroyed her to see the fate of the galaxy.

She just had to confront her, and she couldn't be sorry for the outcome she was sure would end up happening.

Padmé's eyes kept following Rex, a man so loyal to Skywalker during the Clone Wars it was sickening to even stare at him. She smiled as she made her way to the crowd to greet him.

He spotted her from above, his tan face going madly white at once, as if he had seen a ghost. Well, wasn't that just the case? Padmé Amidala had once been dead to the world. But she had risen from the grave to make everyone who put her in such a place pay.

There was also the fact that she was like a vision. Rex had seen her like that before. Padmé was wearing an outfit the old General must've known for sure. All clad in white, like a bride, the fabric clung to her skin. The top which showed only a hint of cleavage was significantly larger now. The whiteness extended to her arms. Her flat belly was naked. Her pants skin-tight and seductive. Her hair was in a simple bun. She looked the very Senator Amidala from the Battle of Geonosis. One important difference, though: she carried more weapons that then, and not just a blaster. Rex swallowed hard: there was a lightsaber hanging from her waist.

Rex descended the long stairway till he was face to face to Padmé. Clearly lost for words he could only stare astonished at her. He tried putting a hand on her shoulder, was he trying to hug her? She'd never allow it.

Taking a step back, she said: "I want to speak to Ahsoka."

There was such coldness and resentment in her voice Rex paled again.

Still lost for words, Rex made move to leave.

"No. Stop." Padmé held the Clone back. "I want you by my side as I _greet_ her."

"Yes, Senator," Rex finally found his voice.

She stopped dead again. "Don't. Call. Me. That." She threatened.

He looked confused as he walked to the center of the large hall next to her. _Already suspecting?_ Padmé wondered. _Good._

"How should I call you, then?" Rex muttered.

Padmé smiled wickedly. "The Bride." She said as the crowd opened. "That would do."

The music stopped, just like the dancing. The silence indicated Padmé it was now or never.

" _Ahsoka Tano!"_ she screamed, all accumulated emotions from all those years in her voice. _"You and I have unfinished business!"_ Padmé could almost swear she felt the tremor in the Force. Or was it that the hall had turned suddenly nervous?

The doors from the room above opened by a Clone, a small crowd exited it, one of them Ahsoka. She paced slowly as if every step hurt her feet, and finally stood, her hands holding the durasteel handle of the balcony. She stared down at Padmé as Rex moved to reveal her, too many feelings in her face to just name one. "Senator…" she muttered. "Padmé…"

Padmé's dark eyes were full of all hell's fire as she stared at Ahsoka's blues. Like with Rex, the word _Senator_ seemed to awake something in her.

The movement was so unexpected: Padmé immediately took her lightsaber from her waist; the green blade shone after the usual _hiss-snap_ ; the blade passed Rex's blaster arm, mutilating it, as Padmé screamed, the small word a furious grunt: "Traitors!"

The Clones next to Ahsoka all took out their blasters. Ahsoka took a step back, as if unable to process what she had seen. The crowd of party-goers screamed afraid for their lives and ran out of the Temple shouting incomprehensible things. Rex was on the floor, screaming and grunting in pain as many feet passed him by and above him while they fled.

Padmé paid no attention to anything, except the young Togruta female she once had trusted her life to. She gave step after step, lightsaber still ignited, indifferent to the mayhem she had caused, slowly approaching the stairway more and more.

The place was almost deserted, you could only hear Padmé's steps and faintly now, Rex's yelps of pain.

"Threepio," Ahsoka said. "You may go now."

The droid looked confused, turning to his current mistress, he tried to say: "But what… My lady… isn't that…"

"Threepio, beat it!" Ahsoka shouted.

The droid descended the stairs, trembling with fear. He passed Padmé by without daring to offer his old mistress a single look.

Ahsoka turned to the Clone next to her: "Cody," she said. "Tear her down for what she did to Rex!" her voice shook with anger.

Cody, jumped from the balcony, he fired with his technologically enhanced precision, his legendary modified genes, and fired at Padmé. She curved the hand that held the lightsaber and deflected the fire, which rebounded on the Clone that attacked her. He fell down dead before her. The rest of the Clones who were accompanying Ahsoka did as Cody, firing at the former senator only to fall dead as well. Ahsoka was reminded of the days in which Jedi easily took down droids. But that was wrong. Clones were superior. And she loved them. Padmé had killed them!

"I was hoping we could talk," Padmé said, her voice slightly breathless. "I don't think we can."

"No, Senator. Not when you attack first!" Ahsoka said from above, holding back tears, tears for the dead Clones, for the revived old friend, for the whole situation.

"Maybe there's still a chance," Padmé said, her voice unable to conceal its bitterness and hatred. "Tell me where _Anakin_ is."

"So you can kill him?" Ahsoka inquired with a mix of irony and rage.

" _Where is he?"_ Padmé pressed.

Ahsoka finally seemed recovered from the shock of it all. "Over my dead body would I betray my master." She glared at Padmé.

Padmé smirked fiercely. "If that's how you want it. _Snips_." she pointed her green blade at Ahsoka.

Ahsoka looked like she was trying to hold back a chuckle.

She took her white blade again, but she made no move to get near Padmé. She slashed behind her, and the sound of loud, coordinated marching covered the Temple.

Padmé lost her smirk.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asked.

Ahsoka smiled a triumphal smile from above. "You didn't think it would be so easy, did you?"

Padmé almost smiled again. Rex looked troubled on the floor.

"Maybe for a second I did," Padmé said.

The loud, clattering marching sound was closer, it was just coming in. Padmé knew what it was. The remaining Clones. The legendary 501st that destroyed along Anakin Skywalker the Jedi Temple eight years ago.

Vader's Fist…

* * *

 **AN:** Thanks to anyone who's reading this impossible AU. Special thanks to those who take the time to review and leave words of encouragement :)

So many parallels! Can you name them? Also… Yep, I went for Dark Ahsoka. Sorry, it was necessary. She's actually very grey, though.

Next part is my favorite!


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